Ella did not speak—­she could not; but she looked up into his face, with a sweet, modest, affectionate smile; and her dark, soft, beautiful eyes, suffused with tears, wherein a soul of love lay mirrored, gave answer, with a heart-felt eloquence surpassing words.

“I understand you, Ella,” said Algernon, with emotion.  “You are mine—­mine forever!” and he strained her trembling form to his heart in silence—­a deep, joyful and holy silence—­that had in it more of Heaven than earth.

* * * * *

It was a mild, lovely day in the spring of 1783.  Earth had donned her green mantle, and decorated it with flowers of every hue and variety.  The trees were in leaf and in bloom; among whose soft, waving branches, gay birds from the sunny south sung most sweetly; and nature seemed every where to rejoice.  In the court of Bryan’s Station was a large concourse of people—­many of whom were from a distance—­and all assembled there to witness the solemn ceremony which was to unite Algernon Reynolds and Ella Barnwell forever; for who shall say the holy marriage rite is not eternally binding in the great Hereafter.  There were congregated both sexes and all ages, from the infant to the hoary headed veteran of eighty winters.  There were assembled youth and manhood, whose names have since graced the historic page, and whose deeds have stamped them benefactors of their race and nation.  All were in order, and silent, and the scene was most solemnly impressive.  On the right and left of the bride and groom and their attendants, stood, promiscuously, the general spectators of both sexes.  In front was drawn up the garrison, in three platoons, under arms, in compliment to the noble bravery of our hero at the battle of Blue Licks.

Never did Algernon appear more noble than now—­never did Ella look more beautiful; as, pale and trembling, she seemed to cling to his arm for support.  The ceremony was at length begun and ended, amid a deep and breathless silence.  As the last words, “I pronounce you man and wife,” died away upon the air, the first platoon advanced a pace and fired a volley—­the second and third followed—­and then arose a soft bewitching strain of music; during which the friends of the newly married pair came forward to offer their congratulations, and wishes for their long life and happiness.

Among the party present was Colonel Boone; and approaching Algernon and Ella—­who were now seated where the solemn rite had taken place—­he took the hand of each, and said, in a voice of some emotion: 

“My children—­for ye seem to me as such—­may you both live long and be happy.  You’ve both o’ ye had a deal o’ trouble since I first saw ye—­and that’s but a little while ago—­but I hope its now over.  Don’t think I want to flatter, sir, when I say I think you’re a brave and honorable young man, and that you’ve got a wife every way worthy of ye—­and she a husband worthy o’ her—­and that’s saying much.  God bless ye both! and ef you ever need a friend, call on Daniel Boone.”